


Mr. Blue Sky

by Generouslyinnercheesecake



Series: Commish [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Child sex trafficking rings, Crime Fighting, Cute, Dark, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Investigations, Jason Todd-centric, M/M, Prostitution, Romance, Underaged Prostitution, Yearning, at times - Freeform, space travels, three-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Generouslyinnercheesecake/pseuds/Generouslyinnercheesecake
Summary: Three major moments in Jason Todd’s complicated life after the Lost Days.Requested by @midnightcrownsblog on Tumblr!
Relationships: Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Original Child Character(s), Jason Todd & Original Female Character(s), Kyle Rayner/Jason Todd, Tim Drake and Jason Todd
Series: Commish [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855459
Kudos: 67





	1. Let ‘Em Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Before we begin, I would like to give a big big thank to @midnightcrowsblog on Tumblr! They requested this fic as a commish. So please go check out their page if you can! 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING
> 
> This is a three-shot, so there’s three chapters, all of them are about Jason. So if you’re a Jason lover this is def for you <3 And before anyone asks, all chapters (including the main title) are song names that I think represent the vibe of the chapter. I thought it would be a cool idea, so please go check out those songs if you can <3

Bruce was being a little bitch. As usual.

Jason knew he was destructive sometimes, but Bruce had no place in his business. He may have raised him for a few years, but also was a stubborn, righteous bastard.

Jason had every right to kill the monster that took advantage of those kids.

* * *

Nightwing was, surprisingly, the first to give him a tip that he heard about an underground child sex trafficking ring. Jason didn’t ask why Dick had told him, of all people, but there was a growing respect between them now. Dick had slowly began to understand that Jason was never going to change his ideas about criminals, and also that some cases were more his territory than Bruce’s.

Jason knew it had taken years for that respect to grow that much. So Jason had accepted the case with nothing more than a nod and reminder to send the case details to one of his safehouses.

Jason dropped on the creaky couch of one of his safehouses. The night was uneventful, except for the news Nightwing had given him about a new piece of shit running around town. Jason was tired, his eyelids drooping as he laid back onto the couch. He knew he would wake up with a crick in his neck, but couldn’t find himself to care about the morning right now.

He had been up for a little more than 24 hours, mostly because he couldn’t sleep. The night terrors were usually worse around this time of year. Jason knew why, but didn’t want to talk about it. He had already relived his death more times than he could count.

Jason felt himself slip into sleep.

* * *

He woke up covered in cold sweat, muscles quaking and eyes horribly red. Another nightmare. Jason shook out the sludge in his body and moved to get the remote on the coffee table. He turned the TV on as a sort of way to drown out his own thoughts.

There he lied, his arm folded over his face to cover his eyes, exhaustion pulling him into sleep but him resisting it because he knew he would only wake up, even more tired. He tried to think of other things: Roy and how he complaining because Lian needed to be potty trained, how Bruce was so emotionally constipated, how Dick gave him that new case.

Wait. The case.

Jason brought his arm to his side as he lifted his upper body up to sit on the couch. He put his hands on his knees to haul himself up, then made his way to his laptop. Jason had already downloaded the information on it, so he had the flash drive in a separate room.

Jason unlocked his laptop and proceeded to study the case further. There were street kids slowly going missing by the accounts of their parents or friends. The most recently known child was a little girl named Inez Rosales. Her brother had claimed that they were walking home late and a group of men with guns had cornered them. The brother, Raul had requested that they take him instead, but apparently they had said they only wanted healthy ones. Jason was confused by that until he saw a picture of Raul. He was in crutches, his left leg seemingly completely paralyzed.

Jason felt a surge of anger go through him. The only reason they didn’t take Raul was because he was partially crippled. They took Inez because she a healthy little girl, unlike her brother, who would’ve willingly taken her place.

Jason swallowed down the vomit that was trying to crawl up his throat, then continued scrolling. He had learned that Raul watched them go south, though they disappeared after a few seconds. Some other accounts had said they found the same license plate parked by a warehouse on 8th and Peter. Jason knew which warehouse they were talking about, but he had raided them a few weeks ago for a different case, and there was no visibly evidence of sex trafficking going on.

Another tip had said a completely different location across town, so Jason presumed they were changing locations weekly to throw the Bats off their trail.

Well, thank god Red Hood wasn’t a Bat.

* * *

The Red Hood paid some common villain warehouses some visits, and by the sixth warehouse he had mapped out he still couldn’t find the ring. He sometimes stopped and mulled over if he should be doing this without even knowing the leader behind the ring, but continued to search. Those innocent kids didn’t have time, so he didn’t.

When he got home that night, he looked into recent accounts of witnesses to see the physical features of the leader and his goons. Most had witnessed what looked like goons, but one witness had seen what the leader looked like: brown hair, hazel eyes, a cut grey suit, his limbs long but lean.

It was a typical description of a white man, but the grey suit led Jason to believe the ring leader had money, perhaps due to being a businessman. Jason knew there was plenty of corrupt businessmen in Gotham, so it wasn’t a far stretch. There was another claim from the witness that he had initials sewed onto the grey suit: WE. Wayne Enterprises.

Jason looked into Wayne Enterprises to see who fit that description. Surely enough, five men fit it. He looked into the jobs each of them held. Two held some in the R and D department, and the three others were in the financial departments.

He was eventually able to narrow it down to only two because of their departments and personal reviews from the manager of their personal department. One, named Adam Mulane, fit the physical description perfectly, along with the personality. He was straightforward, hard-headed, secretive, and worked in the financial department where he could be more low key yet have more power in his job. Various co-workers of his made complaints about him being on his phone all the time, or not focusing on his work when he was supposed to.

Another was also in the financial department—John Davis. He fit the physical description, and some of the personality. However, some co-workers described him as shy, rather than secretive.

Jason sighed as he leaned back in his rolling chair. His eyes burned from the blue light, and he hadn’t slept in almost 24 hours. He thought he was on his 22nd, but he had honestly lost track three hours ago. He tried to imagine falling asleep, instead of actually doing it, to trick his brain into thinking he got some amount of sleep. When Jason opened his eyes thirty minutes later, however, his eyelids still felt as heavy as bags of sand.

Jason knew it was a hopeless endeavor to try to trick his own brain, and trudged his way to his bed. It was soft a plushy on his skin. Jason hoped the nightmares would stop for this one night. He needed to sleep.

* * *

He woke up with Tim in his room.

The young man was standing proud and tall in his Robin costume, and Jason attempted to quell the upcoming red that began to overcome his vision. He and Tim had come to a silent understanding: _don’t fuck with me and I won’t fuck with you._

However, it seemed he was breaking that currently.

“What the fuck are you doing, Replacement.” It was less of a question and more of a demand, although most conversations began like that. Jason clicked on his phone to see it was six in the morning. _Why is he-_

Tim rolled on the balls of his feet. “Did you start the sex trafficking case yet?” He asked back.

Jason stared at him. Tim kept bouncing his leg, his words quick and unsteady. His costume was disheveled in more ways than one—Jason could faintly see his eyes fluttering behind the white lenses.

“Yeah...”Jason said absentmindedly. His mind couldn’t help but focus on Tim himself. He didn’t know where this sudden concern came from—he was supposed to hate Tim—but the young man seemed to be almost manic. “You good?” He avoided saying his usual nickname at the end.

Tim sighed heavily, and Jason didn’t know why he felt some of the red being replaced with guilt. The boy appeared so defeated, suddenly. “I’m fine,” Tim replied, voice now gritted out.

“Then what the fuck is wrong with you?” Jason demanded, though it was a question this time.

Tim seemed to pause. Jason’s brows furrowed. He had seen this same behavior in his stepmom, when she would try to get her greedy hands on a line of coke or invite too many men home. Jason didn’t know other people experienced those things, and it wasn’t just his mom.

“I’m-“

Jason interrupted him when his concern grew to something more dangerous. “Go back to the manor,” he ordered. Tim’s eyes widened. “Talk to Alfred. Somethings wrong and he should be able to help.” Jason had guessed he was dealing with some emotional shit that Alfred would be the best to help at. “I’m taking care of the case, Replacement.”

Tim, surprisingly, left with little resistance. The only other thing he had said was, “Lemme know if you need help!”

Jason scoffed, but a small sliver of relief crawled up his spine. Hopefully Tim would listen.

* * *

Jason woke up five hours later, feeling refreshed. He hadn’t remembered much after Tim left, but he assumed he simply went back to sleep. Jason clambered out of bed with relaxed feet and made his way to the kitchen to make a semi-breakfast. It was noon, but he had just woken up and therefore should’ve made breakfast.

He whipped up an omelette, ate at his little dining table (because he refused not to), then began working on the case once again.

Jason’s mind briefly wandered to Tim, but he attempted to shake those thoughts out of his head. He needed to focus on the case at hand. Mulane’s last known sighting was him walking from his car to the twelfth floor of WE. Jason tracked down his entire schedule, then did the same with Davis’. Four hours had suddenly passed before Jason could recall. He looked up from the screen, his eyes bleary and aching, then, before he could think anymore, he picked up one of his burner phones.

There were three rings before somebody answered. “ _Wayne Manor,_ ” the clipped British voice said over the speaker. Jason could imagine Alfred answering the phone, his suit polished and smart, and felt some sense of nostalgia.

“Hey, Alfie,” Jason responded. He heard a small inhale of breath across the line.

“ _How may I help you, Master Jason?_ ” The question was careful, but Jason knew it wasn’t because Alfred was afraid of him and simply because he hoped Jason wouldn’t hang up on him again.

Jason felt himself smile. “Tim came over last night,” he explained, his smile beginning to droop. “Made him go back home ‘cause he was actin’ weird.” The unsaid request of how he was doing was hanging between the line.

“ _He is doing well_ ,” the butler answered warmly. He continued, slightly more cautious. “ _Master Bruce has made sure he is well taken care of. Master Tim has been acting strangely for a week or so, and will be receiving help_.”

Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Thanks, Alf,” he sighed out.

“ _You are very welcome, Master Jason. I am more than happy you and Tim are beginning to get along on a more personal level_ ,” Alfred said, and Jason snorted because that was so Alfred. So straightforward and un- afraid of talking about the things Jason never wanted to.

There was a short pause, then Jason responded, “I gotta go, but say hi to Repla-Tim for me. Kay?”

“ _Yes, Jason. It was nice finally hearing from you_ ,” Alfred said. Jason flinched. From that tone of voice, he could tell Alfred was annoyed with him for not calling for so long.

“Same here, Alfie,” Jason murmured out. “See ya’.”

The conversation ended with a click, and Jason felt he could breathe a bit lighter.

* * *

The night came, sooner or later, and Jason had just enough information to suit up and investigate other warehouses that they could use to traffic the kids. He had visited a couple of same ones to see if they had rotated, finding nothing, then looked into a couple of new ones.

None held any answers.

* * *

Jason didn’t know he was desperate enough to go to Wayne Enterprises, but apparently him showing up told him he was just so. The world around him felt familiar, yet not so. It was busy, straight-laced men and women with too-professional posture that Jason hadn’t seen in almost five years. Jason had hated being around rich people, Bruce excluded, simply because of how pretentious they could be. They never seemed to appreciate the simple things they had around them.

“I have an appointment with Wayne,” Jason stated at the front-desk receptionist.

The woman, Anne it had said on her tag, searched him up and down, briefly keeping her eyes locked onto his dirty leather jacket. Jason wanted to bury within himself, but knew he couldn’t. “Name?” Anne demanded, beginning to type of her computer. Her pink nails clacked against the keyboard obnoxiously.

“Jason Todd,” he replied, his tone flat. The woman stopped typing, then turned her eyes to meet his own for the first time.

“Excuse me-“

“Jus’ tell me which floor he’s on. I forgot.” To be quite honest Jason wanted to stay here and watch as her eyes widened more and more, but he stopped himself from doing so. He had a ring to crack.

“Fif-Fifteenth,” she stuttered out. Jason nodded curtly her way then made his way to the elevator.

Despite his lack of public appearances, it seemed like everyone knew about him. It was like everyone knew about the dead boy, and not the boy. It was painful, to know that. To know people valued yourself dead rather than alive.

Jason shook those dark thoughts out of his head. Not the time.

Bruce was writing something down, his posture sluggish, while he sat behind his vast desk. It was almost looming, but not as looming than when Jason was fourteen-years-old. The older man didn’t stop writing, but Jason could see by the tension in his jaw that he knew of Jason’s presence.

“What?”

“Wow,” Jason dragged out. “Happy to see me, aren’t ya’?” There was no answer, so Jason decided to finally tell Bruce. “I need to see one of your employees. Works in the financial department. Name is Adam Mulane.”

Bruce _finally_ turned his attention towards his son by dropping his pen and looking up at the other man. It simultaneously made Jason see red and feel giddy with having Bruce’s full attention.

“Why?” Bruce asked shortly.

Jason snarled. “He’s a suspect,” he answered, but already regretted saying anything, because Bruce’s face lit up. Jason knew that look. That was Bruce putting on his detective cap. He was studying Jason, interrogating him for a slip to see if he was lying.

Bruce hummed when he noticed no detection of a lie, moving the papers to the side. Jason didn’t hear a reply before Bruce spoke into the speaker on the side of his desk. He requested Adam Mulane to come to his office, and his secretary responded with an affirmation.

The few minutes were awkward between Adam being requested to the office and actually arriving. Bruce hadn’t even bothered attempting conversation, knowing it would only end in bloodied knuckles, and resigned himself to his paperwork once again. Jason sat there, dwindling his thumbs as he tried to recite the first act of Romeo and Juliet from memory.

Adam arrived ten minutes later in a cut black and white suit. As soon as he saw him, Jason knew this was the leader. His whole demeanor screamed a certain power that only master manipulators held, specifically psychopathic manipulators did. The air was heavy. His posture was squared and ready to fight. His eyes were searching and analytical. Jason barely noticed the broken knuckles.

“Mr. Wayne,” Adam had regarded with a nod. His voice was deep, raspy. “And what the was meaning of this impromptu meeting?” He asked. Straightforward and fearless, Jason noted.

Bruce folded his hands, the well-mannered rich boy he needed to be. “This is my colleague, Todd,” Bruce introduced. Adam held a hand out to Jason. Jason took it and didn’t miss a beat when he placed a tracker on the inside of Adam’s wrist. Jason could see a glimmer of hate begin to stir in the other man when he noticed his street-kid-like attire.

“Sir?” Adam asked with a single raised eyebrow.

Bruce made a small noise under his throat, then began, “There has been some minor complaints about your attitude during work hours.” Bruce shuffled some paper, as thought to mimic reciting a complaint. Jason wanted to grin, but thankfully resisted doing so. “An anonymous report had said you called them crude nicknames and have used racial slurs.” Bruce placed the piece of paper back down, writing towards the desk.

Mulane’s eyes twitched. “I was not aware of these claims, Wayne.” His voice was cool. “I would like an investigation.”

There it was. The whiney, conceited part of rich people. They thought they could have anything twisted to their way.

Bruce pursed his lips, then duly nodded. “I understand, Mr. Mulane. However, while the investigation begins I ask you refrain from using further crude language.”

Adam stopped. “Very well, Wayne,” he gritted out, then said, “Are we finished?”

Bruce nodded once, then Adam was gone with a click of the door.

Jason got up himself, then nodded to his dad. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Bruce’s lips seemed to lift a bit, and Jason almost thought he was hallucinating because Bruce never smiled at him. “I trust your judgment,” Bruce admitted. Jason’s heart leaped at the small ray of praise. “Call me if you need-“

“Help. Yeah. Get it,” Jason interrupted. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to avoid doing something stupid, like trying to hug Bruce, then left the office with a lack of goodbye.

* * *

Jason sat at his laptop, tracking Adam’s movement from the past twelve hours. He had moved from work five hours ago to his house. It was two hours ago that he moved from his penthouse to an abandoned building on Sixth and Davidson.

The Red Hood suited up, gun holsters strapped to his legs and various other weapons tucked safely in a duffle bag. He was off on his motorcycle in less than five minutes.

He arrived at the abandoned building less than ten minutes later, the duffle bag being moved to his shoulder. Jason grappled to the top of the building, the walls creaking a scratching just enough, and was able to find an entrance from the roof.

Jason dropped the duffle bag onto the ground with a distinct flop, then began searching through it for a simple bomb. It was the same model he used in Russia. The type of bomb had been so engrained in his memory that it’s what he usually built.

He tucked the bomb in the inside pocket of his jacket, then, with one gun in his right hand, broke down the roof entrance door. The cracking of the wood was absolutely beautiful to Jason’s ears. He heard shuffling up the stairs, then raised his gun. Goons.

Two brutes stopped when they saw him, visibly panicked, then attempted to run back down the stairs to warn the others. Jason rolled his eyes, then promptly shot them both in their kneecaps. Jason shoved their faced in the concrete before they could scream through the pain.

Two minutes later they passed out, and Jason continued rushing down the stairs with silent feet. He held his gun back up when he heard some talking when he reached the second floor. One man, one woman. They were talking about locations. Jason listened in for any thing important, then charged in. The two goons were unprepared, but fought back with what little force they could.

“Fuck!” One of them screamed when Jason elbowed them in the solar plexus.

Jason wrangled his hands on the woman’s throat, then sensed he was about to be hit. He shoved the woman around so she took the hit, and it was a second later that she punched in the nose. Blood began spluttering from her nostrils.

The man lowered his fists nervously when he saw the deadly posture in the Red Hood. It was a minute later that the woman passed out, falling onto the floor uselessly, and Jason shoved the man towards the nearest wall.

“Where’s your boss?” Jason demanded.

The man shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll be dead if I tell you.”

Jason chuckled, the sound dark and raspy. It made the goon shiver in fear. “You’ll be dead either way,” Jason told him.

The goon thought for a moment, hands quivering and eyes wide. He let out a long breath, seemingly disappointed in himself. “First floor, in his office in the corner,” he answered.

Jason shoved his body against the wall. The man slowly inched down onto his knees, legs weak from the tremors. Jason pointed the tip of his gun to his forehead, and when the man felt the cool metal against his skin he began begging. Red Hood silenced him with a dark chuckle, then knocked him out with the butt of his gun.

Jason rushed down another set of stairs, then knew he had hit the jackpot. There was tens of children stuck in cages and made completely silent by the patrolling guards.

Jason didn’t hesitate when he aimed at their feet and shot every single one of them. He hoped they bled out. Hoped they died.

Old habits never change, he supposed.

There was a slamming of a door being broken open, then Mulane was there, shocked look on his aristocratic features. Jason wanted to shoot that stupid face.

When he finished with all the guards, he aimed the gun in Adam’s direction.

After that, it was a blur. He saw a familiar form falling from the rafters, rushing to free the dozens of kids from the cages and hurriedly ordering they wait outside. Jason wanted to stop himself from killing Mulane and impress Bruce for once, but there was also the green whispering in the back of his mind to kill. Kill with no mercy, it had said, no remorse in its voice.

Mulane was running up the stairs, and Jason immediately knew what he was going to do: go the rooftop and kill himself. Face no consequences and take all his winnings to the grace with no remorse.

Jason ran faster, his legs sore but he didn’t care. The rooftop door was opened once again, then Jason was just fast enough to tackle Mulane into the concrete of the roof.

“Let me go!” The man screamed. Jason snarled, the sound audible with the helmet on. Mulane’s hands were trembling. Good. He was scared. He should be.

Jason reached into the inside pocket, where the bomb was, and stuck it to Mulane’s throat. The bomb was activated with a small beep. The man struggled even more, beginning to panic since he wasn’t able to die by his own terms.

“You fucked up, Mulane,” Jason whispered in his ear. He had forty seconds left. “You fucked up those kids. So you deserve to be fucked up.”

It honestly wasn’t Jason’s best revenge speech, but it was decent in his book. Plus, what mattered most was getting justice for those kids.

Mulane struggled and screamed for a few more seconds, his feral tone only angering Hood further. “Batman wouldn’t kill, but I do,” Jason gritted out, then dragged Mulane back inside the building then locked the rooftop door. There was banging from the other side, but Jason ignored it.

Twenty seconds. 

Jason leapt onto the adjacent rooftop, then managed to get back into the ground. He rushed to his motorcycle, then began riding back to his nearest safehouse.

He heard the explosion of the entire building behind him, but drowned that out with the sound of the rumbling motorcycle.

* * *

It didn’t feel like much of a victory when dozens of kids were still emotionally damaged by what they had endured under Mulane. He invited Bruce at his safehouse on a stupid impulse to make sure the kids would be a position where they wouldn’t be taken advantage of again. Jason needed to make sure. It was slowly eating him up from the inside, not knowing what would happen to them. He couldn’t let them be carted off to a shitty orphanage. Maybe he would be able to convince Bruce to adopt all of them.

* * *

Jason honestly didn’t know why he bothered trying to talk to Bruce after a case.

“We do not kill!” Bruce growled. “We are not better than the League if we do so.” That hit hard, considering how much they fucked up Jason.

“Stop being a lil’ bitch! He fucked those kids up. I wasn’ gonna let him out alive,” Jason yelled back. Bruce’s jaw clenched, and Jason knew that was the exact moment that the man turned off his emotions. His mind went blank and there was no convincing him.

“We don’t kill, Jason,” Bruce repeated harshly.

Jason crossed his arms stubbornly. “Jus’ tell me what’s gonna happen to those kids.”

Bruce broke his glare and rubbed a rough hand over his face. He finally answered, “They’ll be provided shelter through the Martha Wayne foundation.”

Jason nodded once, feeling a strong sense of relief. “Thanks...” he whispered. He had rarely ever said it, but his stubborn pride didn’t trump the safety of innocent children.

Bruce nodded.

There was an awkward silence for a full minute.

“Jason-“

“Get the fuck out.”

“Jay-“

“What the fuck did I just say?”

Bruce heavily sighed, then listened to his son’s order.

Just before Bruce exited through the the front door, he turned around and began, “We need to continue this talk at the manor-“

Bruce abruptly closed the door behind him when he saw Jason’s boot being hurled his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brownie points to anyone that can figure out which mental disorder I made Tim have! 
> 
> Thank you for reading and all love <33333


	2. Levitating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go and check out @midnightcrownsblog on Tumblr if you can!

“Are you fucking kiddin’ me?” Jason demanded of Batman. The man responded with a blank stare. “You for fuckin’ real,” Jason concluded with an angry shake of his head.

Kyle’s eyes were darting back and forth from the two vigilantes, seemingly spectating the conversation as one would of a tennis match.

“I’m not goin’ on a space mission with this asshole!” Jason yelled out, face turning a oddly funny shade of red, despite his tan skin tone. “I got shit to do!”

Batman raised a suspicious eyebrows. “Like?” He demanded, and Kyle could see why Tim would call his partner sassy.

Jason gritted his teeth, out of embarrassment or anger Kyle couldn’t really tell. “Non’ya fuckin business,” he muttered callously.

Batman stood there for a moment, completely still and thinking. “Everyone else is unavailable to go on this mission. It requires two people,” he finally said. Jason rolled his eyes moodily, and Kyle was honestly kind of excited to go on this mission with Jason. It seemed like he had a personality, other than the Bat who just sits there and broods. “It’s a simple evaluation of a threat. You are more than capable, Red Hood.” The other young man seemed to still at Batman’s words, as though it triggered something almost violent in him, but eventually sagged in defeat. Kyle was surprised he didn’t put up more of a fight.

“Fuckin’,” Hood gritted out with an impatient tone, “Fine. Jus’ tell Dickhead that he’s dead when I get back.”

Batman was resisting a victorious smirk, Kyle could tell. “I’ll make sure to inform him, Hood.” Batman turned to stare deep into Kyle’s own green eyes, as though analyzing his entire character, then informed him, “You both leave in three days. Rendezvous Tuesday at 16:00 with gear for six weeks.”

Jason groaned and Kyle did his best to hide his triumphant grin.

* * *

Truth is, Kyle had been trying to hide his attraction to Jason Todd since he met him. He had known he was not-straight before he had met the other man, but now he knew he was bisexual. As far as he could tell, Jason was straight, but Kyle knew to never judge a book by its cover. _Especially_ Jason Todd.

He was the second Robin, someone so many people had looked up to as a role model. Then one day, he was gone, and he came back more changed than ever. It was disheartening to see his transformation from a beloved hero to a violent and cold-hearted anti-hero.

But Kyle knew there was more to the Red Hood. He helped children in poor neighborhoods, he killed people who commit heinous crimes, who sell drugs to desperate people. Too many times people thought the Red Hood was insane, a person with no particular moral code who used a gun when he wanted to, but Kyle could tell it was nothing like that.

Maybe he was insane, but Jason was someone who acted out with feelings in mind. He empathized with the poor kids living on the streets. He knew what drugs could do to people. He knew people felt justice could never be properly given to their rapist when the court system usually favored the suspect. He knew from experience.

And he and Jason Todd weren’t very different in how they grew up.

As the two young men, with their duffle bags containing clothes and such, listened to Batman ramble on about the objective of their mission, Kyle looked over at Jason. The other man was fiddling with the zipper of his jacket, duffle casually thrown over his right shoulder.

“Understood?” Batman finished off, and the two young men nodded without a single word. Just as the older hero began walking away, he said, “Dispatch is three minutes.”

Kyle turned to his new mission partner, nodded, then silently made his way to the bay entrance to the ship. Jason furrowed his brows, as though wondering why Kyle would treat him like an equal, but eventually fell into step with his new partner.

They had just placed their bags in the compartments when they heard Batman’s booming voice over the speaker in the ship. “ _Take-off in one minute_.” It was the signal that Kyle and Jason had to get into their seats and put on the buckles.

Jason groaned when he sat down, but made no other noise. Kyle thought it was most likely due to the fact that the guy obviously did not want to come on this mission with him. Perhaps, Kyle mulled over quietly, if it were one of his brothers or Roy or even Kory going with him he could be perfectly content.

The countdown started just as Kyle finished his thoughts, the rumbling of the ship indicating their inevitable take-off.

Jason was tensed behind Kyle, but he knew it was none of his business to say anything. Kyle wasn’t anything more than a partner.

* * *

It was a few hours later when they were finally able to get up and walk around the ship. Kyle was thankful they had developed technology so they were able to still have and use their phones. Jason immediately rushed to the little makeshift bathroom after he undid his seatbelts, and Kyle pretended not to notice too hard when he heard him gasping for breath.

Kyle had resigned himself to touring around the ship and taking note of the exits and trapdoors. The ship was almost homey, with painted walls and padded furniture.

It was approximately three minutes later that Jason slammed the bathroom door behind him. Kyle had just gotten out a magazine to entertain himself, although he wasn’t really reading it, more glancing while his mind was on his new partner. Kyle had also forgotten how magazines these days were pretty much just ads compiled with some useless articles. _Art was really falling off the deep end, huh?_

Jason was fiddling with something in his duffle bag, he could tell, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t any of Kyle’s business.

“So,” Kyle began. Jason snapped his head up to look at the other man. “How’s it goin’?” Kyle asked casually, and Jason stared at him like he’d grown three heads.

Jason dropped whatever he was fiddling with back in his bag. “I’m in space,” he said lamely, “with your ass.”

Kyle couldn’t stifle the snort that rose up his throat. “Would it be better if you were with Dick’s ass?” He joked, although a genuine, insecure question was rooted in it.

Jason’s face softened just a pinch, but he retorted back, “Dick’s ass ain’t even that good.” Kyle made a scandalized face, as though he was personally offended on behalf of the other hero. Jason’s face was completely serious, but Kyle didn’t try to let it get to him. Jason continued, “It’s average, okay? Don’t look at me like that!”

Kyle felt his face split into an amused grin, his eyes beautifully crinkling at the sides. It wasn’t the first time Jason had noticed how attractive the other man was.

“Besides,” Jason continued, a small smile forming at the tips of his pink lips, “why are we talking about Dick’s ass when he’s not even here?”

Kyle shrugged. “Dunno,” he admitted. “But we have six weeks to kill time, so...”

Jason flopped on the nearest sofa, a thinly padded sofa with no arms. It was uncomfortable at best. “ _Six fucking weeks_...” Jason muttered to himself, lying back to stare at the white ceiling and wondering why he had agreed to this.

* * *

“Oh fuck!”

“What happened?”

Jason scribbled out a number on his pad of paper. “I just figured out I’m absolutely terrible at sudoku,” he muttered, throwing the cheap book back in his bag.

Kyle snorted and dropped his pencil on his own game.

He reached for the book, then studied it. He walked back to where Jason was sitting and kneeled beside his feet. Kyle made small noise in the back of his throat, then motioned the book towards Jason’s direction. “It’s not three,” he informed him.

Jason furrowed his brows. “But there’s no three on that line yet.”

Kyle shook his head. “That’s supposed to be a three, then that one’s a seven,” he pointed.

Jason pictured it in his head, then smacked his forehead. “Obviously,” he murmured under his breath, feeling his cheeks begin to heat with embarrassment. “Thanks,” he said to Kyle.

Kyle’s eyes were so green, it was sometimes mesmerizing. Not the green of the Lazarus Pit, but of the forests described in old literature. Kyle turned his eyes to where he was previously sitting. “No problem,” he responded, then made his way back to his seat. “I love sudoku,” he blurted out lamely.

Jason huffed in amusement under his breath. “Yeah. Right.”

The rest of the afternoon was quiet.

* * *

Truth his, Jason would’ve done this missions with anyone else. That wasn’t necessarily to say he hated Rayner, but he wasn’t...ideal. They had met few times, only passing on world-saving missions. Jason couldn’t deny his attraction to the other man, with his open personality and abilities to socialize where Jason couldn’t.

But he could suppress it.

That was one of Jason’s many talents, due to too many years of trauma and being raised by an emotionally constipated bat. Plus, who was Jason to say that Kyle would be good to date? Maybe he would make Jason pay, or, worse, demand sex after the first date. Ugh. There was always the very real possibility that Rayner wasn’t attracted to him.

So he suppressed it.

He pushed down the attraction his body felt, because he knew he would only end up heartbroken. That’s how most things ended up with Jason: an abomination of distrust and irreparable damage.

So now he would suppress.

Kyle was sitting there, faking reading a magazine with a not-too subtle posture, and Jason didn’t know if it was concerning or scared. Either way, he didn’t try to care.

* * *

Two weeks passed by with the two cautiously interacting, mostly out of obligation. They had barely just reached their destination to observe the suspicious planet. Apparently, Darkseid had made this new planet his outlet for slaves, so Batman had forced at least someone to go. Of course that someone had to be Kyle Fucking Rayner. And Jason Todd.

“Jesus, Rayner,” Jason muttered. “Be a lil’ more cautious.” Jason couldn’t believe he was saying that, but the last two weeks had been a vast change from his usual routine. Jason had too much energy from not patrolling, so he began doing home style exercises. They consisted of crunches, jumping jacks, and pull-ups, but that still didn’t help with the fantasies of Kyle’s active imagination.

Kyle made a small noise of acknowledgement in the back of throat, concentrated on landing the ship. It was a couple minutes later when they were able to land without squashing any citizens. Jason immediately got up and began checking to make sure he had packed enough water, food, and guns for the day. Kyle began doing the same, simply making sure he was packed with enough water.

“Ready?”

Jason flinched, his movement almost unnoticeable. Although Kyle had an artist’s eye—he paid attention in great detail. Jason didn’t answer, and instead began checking his guns once again. It was compulsive, the way he kept checking them, but Kyle didn’t wanna say anything. He couldn’t assume anything.

“Okay,” Jason replied eventually, voice at a whisper although he didn’t know why.

Kyle nodded his way with a shy smile, then opened the bay of the ship. The door opened with a hiss, the cold air hitting the two men even though they were in layers of Kevlar and other fabrics.

They seemed to be across from a castle which was overlooking the entire empty field. Jason and Kyle side-eyed eachother, then Kyle used his determination to form a bubble for them to travel to the castle without much issue.

The castle was on the horizon, peeking above one of their solar system’s various suns. It was almost beautiful, the way their possible destruction was able to still shine in the darkest of their times.

* * *

Nothing.

There was fucking _nothing_.

Kyle had interviewed and met with various citizens, but there was little to no indication that they even knew who Darkseid was. It was disheartening, and frankly annoying, to both men. They had dedicated six weeks of their lives to a dead end, and were three weeks in stuck on a planet too far away from their own.

Jason stalked back to the ship for the seventh time that week. “Fucking ridiculous,” he muttered angrily, more to himself than Kyle. Kyle was trailing behind him, completely understand Jason’s anger but not knowing what to do. The second Robin was notorious for having fits of anger that sometimes ended in violence, almost nothing being able to soothe him.

“Ima fucking kill B!” Jason yelled out into the void of the planet, and Kyle thought that line was mostly directed towards him. Although, decelerations of violence towards his previous mentor weren’t a rarity.

Jason began pacing the short length of the ship, and Kyle let him. He picked up a familiar (too familiar) magazine, an absolutely horrible collection of ads with a few shitty articles.

Jason continued ranting, and Kyle could hear the pain in the small cracks in his speech. Could hear it being covered up by the inevitable anger he was pumped up by. “We just wasted six weeks! Six! Fucking! Weeks!”

Suddenly Kyle felt something pull the magazine out of his cramped hands. Jason threw the paper into the opposite wall, and Kyle looked up to see his gritted teeth. It was a familiar expression, but also not. “Why’d you do that? I was letting you rant! You didn’t have to fuck up one of my only forms of entertainment on this stupid ship!” Kyle snapped. He immediately regretted it when he saw the shocked, heartbroken look on Jason’s face. Kyle had always been a team player—was always willing to compromise. But the lack of understanding between the two, and the fact that Jason has barely said a word to him this entire time was catching up on him. He had tried to initiate conversation, but the man always shut it down quickly. Jason had quite obviously never wanted to go on this mission with him.

Despite that, Kyle apologized. “Sorry.” His eyes couldn’t meet Jason’s teal ones. “Didn’t mean to say it like that. Just...” he tried to think of a word, and said what first came to his mind, “frustrated too is all.”

Jason’ shoulders slumped depressingly. Kyle felt his heartstrings tug dangerously. He knew what this meant: he was about to do something emotional, most likely destructive.

It was two seconds later that Jason pulled at his own hair, nerves radiating throughout the entire ship. “Look.” His words were stiff. “I’m...sorry I got all fucking crazy.” He paused, prompting Kyle to look back into his eyes. Teal. “It’s just that...” Jason waved his hands around, gesturing to their surroundings.

Kyle couldn’t help the sympathetic smile that slipped onto his lips. “Yeah,” he said lightly. “I feel that way too.”

His heart beat faster, suddenly, when Jason looked down at him, lazy surprise written across his face. Kyle could see the faint freckles on the bridge of nose and cheeks, and the small upturn of the red, bitten lips. It was almost hypnotizing. His lips were still tight from the residual anger over their dead end, and Kyle could feel the nerves still bouncing on the walls.

Before Kyle could think, he leaned into Jason, planting a chaste, shy kiss on those lips. It was not the first time he had kissed a man, but it would never be the last.

Jason froze in his tracks. He knew it was supposed to be comforting, but it was the complete opposite. His heart skipped and he felt a headache forming in the back of his head. It was a simple kiss. Something he could tell Kyle felt awkward about after he pulled away. Although Jason couldn’t detect a hint of regret laced on his expression.

That expression was a good distraction from his current inner storm. He was arguing with himself. Kyle simply did this to stop his talking. For the sex he thinks Jason would offer him. For the loneliness he had, and Jason was the only person around him.

Kyle licked his lips, trying to memorize the taste of Jason while he could, then sighed tiredly. “Sorry.” Jason’s eyebrows jumped up. “I mean,” Kyle hastily corrected himself, “I’m not _really_ sorry cause that was nice.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with his shaking hands. “I just didn’t mean to do it so out of the blue and without your consent.”

Jason pursed his lips, inner turmoil changing to shock.

_He felt bad about not asking before doing??_

Oh boy. Jason’s falling hard.

Jason knew he couldn’t turn off his brain, but tried as hard as he could when he placed his calloused hands on Kyle’s scrunched up face and asked, “Can-can I kiss you?”

Kyle’s heart thumped against his chest.

He nodded, and Jason leaned in.

* * *

The next morning came.

It had felt uncomfortable, because they didn’t exactly regret what had happened last night, but it only made their insecurities rise to the surface. Jason was currently obsessing over the implications of a relationship while Kyle was trying to distract himself by sketching the planet they had just left with a rusty pencil.

The silence in the ship was deafening as they travelled back to their home planet at light speed.

Kyle tried to let the sound of the pencil scratching on the paper relax him from yesterday’s happenings, but couldn’t forget the friction of Jason’s lips on his own. Couldn’t forget the smell of his breath: a slight nicotine mixed with minty toothpaste and Jason’s favorite fruit, strawberries. How the skin around his lips were pokey with hair due to him not being able to shave for a few days. And the way Jason unconsciously wrapped his arms around Kyle’s broad shoulders.

Jason was fiddling with the book he was reading (Little Women) as he thought of the subtle way Kyle had melted into the kiss. The way he allowed Jason to hold him so close.

Two days passed in silence.

Kyle was slowly growing crazy, however, with not being able to talk to anyone for so long. Jason was beginning to feel the same way on the second day. Kyle was the first to say something, however.

“I can’t wait till we get home...” he announced quietly, just trying to break the silence of the ship. Sometimes he couldn’t stand silence.

Jason blinked, then closed his book with a mark stuck between the pages, putting the novel down to finally focus his eyes on his...whatever. Before he could think of his words, he said what he had been thinking for the past two days. “Why did you let me kiss you?”

Kyle’s pencil stumbled as it dropped to the floor and rolled to the other side of the ship. Kyle secretly mourned the loss of one of his two pencils he currently had.

Kyle looked back up to Jason, wanting to be truthful but not knowing how it would affect the rest of the mission. Perhaps he was asking because he felt violated? Or hurt by the silence?

“Because I wanted to,” Kyle blurted out. He pursed his lips, more out of embarrassment than wanting to not reply at all.

Jason’s eyes fell to the floor. “Are you sure?” He asked eventually, voice hesitant and shy, so different from the confident, aggressive Red Hood that didn’t hesitate to defend the helpless and kill the assholes who inflicted the pain onto them.

Kyle couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Who wouldn’t wanna kiss Jason Todd? His allure of his physical was irresistible and mind even more so. “Yea. I really do.”

Jason snorted, mostly because he was in awe and not out of humor. “Do?”

Kyle nodded. This was it. After two days of silence and many months of secret attraction he needed to say something. He was saying something. He sometimes amazed himself with his own braveness, but he guessed that same braveness contributed to getting the ring.

Jason stared at him for a minute, his gaze too intense and passionate for Kyle.

“Is this gonna be somethin’...casual-or?” Jason asked awkwardly, taking his gaze away from the other man.

Kyle bit his lip. “I don’t want it to be,” he admitted.

A small smile twitched onto Jason’s lips, victorious and beautiful. “Well,” Jason said, “Me neither.”

Kyle’s eyes widened, and a smile had bloomed onto his features.

Today was a good day.

* * *

It was a blur from there. They had been familiar with one another before, but they had stayed up in the late hours to relearn one another. Each other’s fears, likes, dislikes. Jason had been less talkative, but Kyle didn’t expect him to suddenly trust him. Trust was a slow process, and needed to be cherished with every minutes they spent together.

However, Kyle had been told of Jason’s obsession with literature, specifically feminist literature from the 1800’s. It was funny, since the Red Hood was one of the most feared creatures in Gotham. But Kyle shouldn’t be surprised. He had figured out that Jason was not only streets smarts, but also analytical. He was incredibly intelligent in taking apart a piece of literature and understanding the nuance in it.

Their lips had also become acquainted. Jason had realized one thing in the last two and a half weeks they had spent in the ship: Kyle was just as passionate as himself.

Kyle dedicated to helping the poor. He dedicated himself to loving with everything he could, despite the betrayals he had faced with previous partners. He devoted himself to being himself, truly and without hesitation. He was selfless, kind, and intense. Intense enough for Jason’s own intense personality.

Before they knew it they had arrived back at the Watchtower, exhausted but happy. Wonder Woman and Batman were waiting as they both exited the ship, Jason with a glare directed towards his mentor and Kyle was a noticeable skip in his step. Their duffle bags were thrown over their shoulders, dangling casually.

Wonder Woman greeted them, “How was the mission? Both of you.”

“It was great!”

“It was a dead end,” Jason said at the same time. Kyle turned to him, eyes narrowed nervously. “But otherwise it was pretty good,” Jason admitted with a soft smile. Kyle’s eyes turned soft.

Batman smirked knowingly.

It worked, he thought to himself. Finally. Truth was, Red Robin was available for the mission, but Bruce knew they needed to be forced to confront one another.

“What’re lookin’ at, old man?” Jason demanded.

Batman cleared his throat. “The manor is always open,” he alluded. He would never explicitly say Kyle was invited for dinner, but Jason could tell it was hidden between the lines.

Kyle’s jaw dropped. “Did you assign us-?”

“Mission report due tomorrow morning,” Batman interrupted him and left with a whisper of his cape.

Jason didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at Bruce, because of course he would do some shit like this.

_Fuckin’ weirdo. Been learning too much from Dick’s hopeless romantic ass._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Don’t be afraid to comment and I’ll see you on the next chapter! All love!


	3. Vagabond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go and check out the amazing @midnightcrownsblog

“Move!” Jason screamed at Red Robin. The other man jumped out of the way of a moving missile, then nodded towards Red Hood as a way of thanks.

Jay didn’t pay much attention to it, as he continued running towards the robot. Most people thought of him as single-minded, his only solution being the guns he often used, but they were wrong. He was raised by Batman. He had to be resourceful.

Hood snatched a kris from the side of his black cargo pants. “Hey, fuckass!” He yelled at the robot, gaining its attention. The piece of machinery began stumbling his way. Batman had already gotten a chunk of its left leg off, so that left the monster limping.

Jason used his grapple to get above the monster and land on its neck. He, of course, wasn’t going to choke him, but grabbed the large head and began using his kris to stab it too many times to take count. That left the monster distracted while Red Robin used a wire to string together its two legs. The machine lost balance when its legs were tied up and Jason pushed him forward enough to knock him over.

Batman activated the EMT to stop the machine from coming alive and finish what it was programmed to do.

Jason looked down at the robot, wanting to kill it even though he knew he couldn’t. It had been made by some C-list evil scientist, and was programmed to reek havoc on Crime Alley. Red Hood’s territory. His reasoning, they would find out later, was to finally destroy that part of Gotham because it was an embarrassment to the city. Jason wanted to scream and laugh at the same time, because the entirety of Gotham was a shithole.

“Hood,” Batman grumbled as a way of greeting, and Jason would forever hide how Bruce saying that always made his heart flutter with some giddiness he couldn’t quite describe. It was toxic, the way Bruce always made him feel at home despite the resounding amount of tension between them.

Jason didn’t know the last time he felt the world was straight. Just when he felt he was safe from the demons of his past, he felt the wind change. The criminals became tougher. The world tilted on its axis and he was stuck clinging to the edge of his sanity. He had to face those demons yet again, encounter new ones, and find new ways to suppress them. The night terrors, however, refused that. His own brain, the one thing that he was supposed to trust, the one thing that was to never change, hated him so much his sanity was constantly being pushed to the limit. His own brain was used against him. It allowed the demons to creep into his vision when he got too angry. It allowed the demons to choke him, cutting off all air when he could no longer handle the pressure.

“B,” Jason scowled, but he was scowling inwardly. Here he was, standing in front of his many demons, allowing it to hurt him yet again. And Bruce hadn’t even said anything remotely offensive in the conversation yet.

Batman ducked his head as a silent way of acknowledgment, then said, “Thank you.” The swish of his cape said he had left to collect more evidence about this scientist to put him behind bars longer.

Saying thank you to his kids was his own fucked up way of saying, “Come home, please? I miss you,” but Jason couldn’t care less. He would care more if Bruce were to actually say he misses them rather than pussyfoot around the situation.

Nope. Jason did not care. At all. He was a careless, cold bastard who just so happened to cuddle with his boyfriend most nights and make sure all the kids in his neighborhood had toys to play with.

* * *

The aftermath of Crime Alley was...rough. Most convenience stores were destroyed, the soup kitchens had a shortage of volunteers because everyone was scared to work there anymore, and because many building were demolished it meant many people had lost their jobs.

And Jason knew what happened when people lost their jobs and needed money.

He had turned to prostitution as a way of survival as a kid. It was a last-ditch effort of getting the money he didn’t get from his parents. He was desperate and regretted giving himself to strangers he didn’t know before he could properly read Shakespeare.

He resorted to not only volunteering at the shelters, but also giving to the workers on the corner. Most workers had been working for a few years, but a few were new, he could tell.

He could tell because one had offered a session. He laughed after she had asked him, mostly because he hated the Johns who would accept the offer. “Um,” she stuttered when she heard his amused laugh.

Mary, one of the more experienced prostitutes, smiled knowingly. “You ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from him, darlin’,” Mary told her.

The inexperienced sex worker, Sherie, nodded, now understanding. “He...?” She trailed off.

“You can always go to him if someone threatens or hurts you,” another worker, Renee, responded. “He’s the Red Hood. He’s good for people like us.”

Sherie nodded along. “Oh,” she breathed out. Jason was finished laughing, and stared long and hard at her, though the domino mask did a little to cover his calculating eyes. They seemed to bore into her soul, almost determining if she were a good person or not.

After a moment, he nodded and stuck out his hand. “Call me Hood,” he greeted.

She hesitantly shook it, and Jason promised to himself that he would prove himself enough that she wouldn’t anymore hold that fear in her eyes.

He was snapped back into reality when he heard Renee inform him, “There’s a creep that’s been goin’ round to the other ladies.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed to slits, the white of the lenses still managing to be intimidating. “Know the name?” He asked, his tone none too gentile. He knew these ladies were always at risk simply for providing for their family. Sometimes, this was all they had. They depended on this to give to their families. They depended on this to survive.

“I don’ know exactly,” Mary jumped in. “But I heard it from a girl on Fifth.” Jason felt the green haze at the back of his brain make a rapid jump to the front of it, and suddenly all he needed was a name. Whoever it was, he as going to die.

A girl.

Not a woman.

A girl.

“She said his name is Tony Renzo,” Renee finished for her after seeing the look on Jason’s face.

Jason’s face hardened further, as if to memorize this feeling. He needed to memorize it to push him more later. “How old is she?” He demanded. Mary and Renee immediately tensed, but Sherie was the first to speak up.

“She looked ‘bout twelve.”

Jason felt his hands shaking as he lifted the hood to cover his face once again. “I’ll kill the fucker, don’t worry ladies,” he gritted out before he grappled to the nearest rooftop.

Tony Fucking Renzo.

* * *

Jason ended up beating him up to unconsciousness when he found him two days later. He was bedded with another prostitute, although at least this one was of age.

Jason wondered who that girl was. Who had to sell her young body to provide for herself. He knew too familiarly how that felt.

He supported sex work, don’t get him wrong, but when you’re faced with the slim chance of survival at a young age, parents gone after abusing you, sometimes sex work is the only way to go. For him, it only caused him more damage. His trust during sex was fickle. Kyle knew this. He was one of the only partners Jason had that actually respected that.

“Who was she?” Jason demanded of Tony, voice low and deadly and dripping with absolute hate and disgust. Tony shivered, the fear rattling him to his bones.

“I don’ ‘member!” Tony panicked. Jason threw his head into the nearest brick wall. Maybe that would trigger a memory. “Okay! Okay!”Tony held up his hands in a surrender gesture. “She said it was Charlie!”

Jason stared at him, hoping for a last name. Although he knew she couldn’t be that stupid. No worker would give away their last name, especially a kid. “No last name given?” Jason growled.

Tony shook his head.

Then Tony saw a fist coming his way, and blackness came over his vision.

* * *

Jason, because of someone (Kyle’s) little voice bouncing around in his head, decided to (heroically) not kill Tony. Instead, the pedophile faced life in prison not only from...well, pedophilia, but also tax fraud. Jason was actually glad that the justice system gave a man what he deserved. Tony’s wife and kids bounced to Bludhaven when it all went down.

The only thing left was to find that kid. Charlie.

The sunlight teased Jason’s tan skin, the heat making him regret ever wearing the leather jacket to begin with, but he also had a secrecy to uphold. The workers on the corner weren’t out yet, but they mostly lived in the same area as their areas of town. Jason had found out the general area where Renzo had picked the kid out thanks to Renee, Sherie, and Mary. Sherie was surprisingly the one who had seen the most.

“I jus’ saw a kid come outta a dude’s car. She was pretty fucked up,” she had told Jason.

“How fucked up?” He questioned.

Sherie’s shoulders rose to her ears, then she responded with a whisper: “She had a bunch o’ bruises. I think she was limpin’.” The whispers of the Lazarus pit were louder, and the red covered his entire sight. He didn’t bother himself with responding, he was sure his stiff, defensive stature proved enough to Sherie.

It had led him to the corner of Fifth and Peter Avenue. It was still daylight, so he was watching covertly from a small restaurant across the corner.

“Want some?” The waitress—Jason looked at her name tag—Jessica asked. She pointedly held up her right hand which was holding a halfway filled coffee pot.

Jason shook his head. “No thanks,” he responded. “Got tea?” He asked.

Jessica provided him an odd look, as though someone asking for tea was a rare occurrence, then left to get a pot of hot water. Jason scoffed at her weird reply, then crossed his arms across the top of the table.

He guessed the kid was near—she most likely not experienced enough to go to a corner further away from her home, so she had to be lurking near. Sherie couldn’t give much of a physical description due to the bruises littering her entire body, but she did provide a hair color: Black. It was common, but if that’s all Jason had than that was okay. He’s dealt with less information than that before.

Jason looked away from the window to where the waitress left to the kitchen, wondering why it was taking so long.

Then he saw-

“We don’t give handouts, kid!” A short, stout man screamed at a little girl. Black-haired girl.

“Can’t spare any fuckin’ water, fuckass!?” The girl replied. “What a great business you’re runnin’ here.”

Jason knew that was the kid. He could still see the lingering bruises on her arms and face.

Jason rushed up, squaring his shoulders. He walked up behind the girl—Charlie. “We gotta problem here?” He demanded of the man.

“Yeah, dude.” His face was red with rage. “Get the hell outta my restaurant!”

Jason glared at the man, and he could see him bristle. But Jason only cared about one thing. “Apologize,” he demanded with gritted teeth.

The man stopped, blinking twice before asking, “Wha?”

Jason narrowed his eye further, and he knew they were changing to the Lazarus green color by the expression of fear painted on the man’s face. “Apologize to her,” he repeated.

The girl crossed her arms, both offended by this stranger having to defend her and the asshole who was kicking her out for simply asking for water. The man last night had choked her hard enough to that her throat felt dry and gross today.

The man’s eyes were blank, focused on Jason, before he scoffed and walked away back to the kitchen. Jason felt some pride surge up his spine when he looked down and Charlie was still standing there, arms across her narrow frame.

The girl looked up, her eyes a honey brown. It was a nice change from the dull blue of his family.

Jason looked over at the waitress to see her with a pitcher of hot water. She was standing at his table, unashamedly playing on her phone and waiting for Jason to get back to his table. It wasn’t like they were busy. There were only a few other customers seated, and most of them already had food.

Charlie finally spoke up, “You didn’t need to defend me.” Her voice was hoarse, and Jason felt another wave of rage swim through his body at that fact. “I’m not some damsel in need of protecting,” she mumbled out.

Jason snorted, the sound shocking the young girl out of her melancholy reverie. “I know, kid,” he said. She narrowed her eyes, obviously confused at why he had helped her. Jason didn’t have an answer for her himself, so he shook those contemplations out of his head and motioned towards his table. “I got tea,” he told her.

She bit her lip. “How do I know ya’ not a pedo?” She challenged.

Jason frowned, because that instant distrust didn’t come from nothing. “Because I incarcerated Tony Renzo,” he responded. She paused, then nodded. Her brown eyes went blank, but she bit her lip hard enough to give herself some feeling.

“Fine,” she relented with a powerful whisper. Jason wanted to smile when she began walking to the table and sat in the booth, the old seats barely creaking under her malnourished frame. Jessica didn’t hesitate to pour some hot water for her, barely looking up from her phone.

She placed a tea bag on the table, then left when Jason gave her a short nod as a way to say it would be awhile to order.

Jason sat across from Charlie. “Hi,” he greeted anticlimactically.

“Hi,” she mumbled. There was an awkward pause between the two, as though the world was slowly shifting and Superman was making time go slower. Then: “How’d ya’ know ‘bout Renzo?”

Jason knew this was coming.

“I heard from the women on the corner that there was a girl sellin’ her body to some cheap pedophiles,” Jason responded, and he knew it was harsh, but as a former street kid, like her, he knew it was best to rip off the band-aid than make the suffering longer. It came with the streets. People were blunt. They didn’t care about your feelings, and they certainly didn’t care if you lived to the next day. They just care about themselves.

Charlie clenched her hands into fists above the table. “I’m not a _girl_ ,” she growled.

“Charlie,” the use of her name despite not telling him made her bristle, “You’re twelve.” She raised her eyebrows, as though expecting him to finish his thought. He did: “Ya’ know what the age of consent is?”

She rolled her eyes, as though it were as cheap of a law as using your turn signal. “I know what the age of consent is,” Charlie answered shortly. “But if I need money, ima find any way to get it.”

Jason’s eyes turned sad, but he continued the conversation. Old memories were swirling past him as fast as he could recall, and he once again loathed the Lazarus Pit for not erasing childhood memories.

“Look,” he grits out. She stilled. “I know your...train of thought or whatever,” she looked suspicious. “But you’re a kid. You need to be a kid.” God knows he never had that opportunity, with selling his body to live on the streets then becoming a vigilante with daddy issues.

Charlie scoffed and dropped in her seat, a subtle way to convey that she either didn’t care or had already thought of that and knew it couldn’t be. “My parents left,” she muttered out, and Jason felt his rage begin to light up his eyes again. “I need to be the adult because there’s no other ones around.”

She was stiff.

She didn’t truly believe it, but felt she had to say it...because why trust this suspicious man in front of her? Why raise suspicions and possibly be taken away where everything would change? How could she trust anyone when everyone, even her parents, had proved otherwise?

“I grew up on the streets,” Jason began, and the girl’s eyes widened. He continued, pointedly not staring at her but instead the light-up sign on the window across from him, “I had to sell my mouth. Mom was a druggie and Dad a fuck-up. I get it, Charlie.”

Charlie was completely silent. The hanging pause between them felt like an endless one. The clock kept ticking, the waitress was flirting with a customer, the sizzle of the burgers were louder and more prominent than before. Everything felt more intense. Jason’s eyes were now focused on her, too understanding and worried.

He knew.

Charlie felt her eyes begin to water, her cheeks puffing up to a startling red as her lips bled from her biting them too hard. Jason wanted to reach across the table and stop her, but he knew it wasn’t his place. Fat tears ran down her tan cheeks, leaving trails of evidence behind.

He knew. She was vulnerable and there was no way to stop it. He knew.

“Wha...” She breathed out. Her lungs felt heavy and there was roaring in her ears. It felt like the slow-motion had ceased and everything was moving too fast. It was too much.

Jason let her finish. “What do I do?” She asked helplessly. Jason gulped. He wanted to hold out his hand, provide her a home, because he sure as hell was grateful Bruce did that, despite their rocky relationship thereafter.

Jason tugged the zipper of his jacket, a nervous habit he’s had ever since he was Charlie’s age. He finally spoke up, “I have a safe house on Sixth and Hamilton.” Charlie’s dark eyebrows rose. “I never go there, really, so don’t worry about not being able to sleep.” Charlie’s breath stuttered. This man seemed trustworthy, but she knew from experience that looks were deceiving. “There’s food, water, a TV, the basic things.” Bingo. That’s all she needed to know.

“Can I-“

“Here’s the address,” Jason held out a piece of paper before she could ask her question. He already knew she was going to ask for the address, her body language screamed it. “Go apeshit, kid,” he joked. Charlie stared at him, waiting for the catch, but he sat there, completely still. “Jus’ don’t make a mess-“

“You want me to suck your dick or somethin’?” She demanded, the address tucked in her beaten up pocket.

Jason’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Ever say that shit to me again and I’ll take away the cable.” It was his way of tough love. “I would never fuckin’ ask that of you, so shut up. You’re a kid. You deserve some place to stay.” He pointedly avoided saying home.

Charlie was scared, but also...

She felt something inside her scream at her heart, as though demanding it to feel something. To feel the genuine concern this man was providing her. It was...unique to her.

She didn’t think it was entirely unwelcome, either.

* * *

Charlie relished the days she spent in the safehouse. She was constantly on defense, expecting Jason to come in and rape or kill her, but no. Nothing.

It shocked her that someone could actually do this out of the kindness of their heart. It wasn’t believable to her. Everyone in her life, including her family, had abandoned her needs for their own. Everyone in her life had been selfish and cold-hearted.

It had shocked her even more when she heard a loud thump echo across the apartment, loud and distinct enough to worry her. She wanted to escape, but knew her position would be fatal because she was four stories high. Charlie turned her body to look at the clock beside her-the bed. 3:23, it read.

Fuck. Was she being robbed?

She heard harsh grunts, then the springs on the couch moaning. She guessed that someone had fallen onto the couch out of either exhaustion or drunkenness, both of which she had experience with.

Charlie snatched a baseball bat from under her bed that she had stolen, then cautiously made her way to living room where the noises were loudest.

“Fuck!” The voice yelled out of pain.

That voice. It was familiar.

“Jason?” She whispered out, bat still drawn over her head.

“Heh?!” Jason yelled from behind the couch, peeking his head to the top. His eyes seemed to finally recognize her. “Oh fuck,” he murmured tiredly, flopping back on the couch.

“Are-“ Charlie gulped harshly, and she once again remembered she was just a kid. “You okay?” She got out. A dark chuckle was his response, and she shivered. Everything in her body was telling her to run, but she knew he needed her. Something was wrong.

“I got stabbed,” Jason said, shocking her.

“How are you alive?!” She gaped.

Jason scoffed. “The movies are wrong.” She didn’t know how to reply. Jason made a short motion with his hand, telling her to come to him. She hesitantly walked over, as if she were in a lion’s den. When he saw her, he immediately requested, “Gimme some whiskey, ‘Kay?”

Charlie felt her entire body tense. She knew how whiskey and men went. It was not a good combination.

“To clean the wound,” Jason clarified for her. She paused, then nodded, walking to the kitchen cabinet she knew was off-limits for her. She grabbed a brown bottle by the neck, then hurriedly rushed back to Jason. He was holding out his hand for it, and made a small noise when he felt the bottle fall into his hand.

Charlie saw as he pulled the cap off and poured a bit directly on the wound, hissing a bit but not making a single movement. Charlie stared at him, not knowing what to do or say. He noticed this, then began talking to her. “My boyfriend is gonna be here soon.” And wasn’t that shocking?

“You’re gay?”

Jason bit out a snort. “Bi. But yeah. I like guys,” he replied.

Charlie opened her mouth to ask more questions, but was interrupted by a thud on the other side of the apartment. She was about to make a run for it before she heard Jason call out with a sarcastic, sing-song voice, “Kyle!” Charlie guessed that was his boyfriend.

Then a man with black hair entered the room, his green eyes showing his true concern while his body tried to say he felt fondly annoyed. It was something Charlie had never seen in a couple.

“Hey, Kid,” Kyle regarded her, then rushed to a small closet, pulling out a first-aid kit. Charlie huffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me ya’ had that?” She accused. “I could’ve been more useful!”

Jason gurgled out, “You don’ need to be useful, Charlie.” She guessed he had just taken a sip of the whiskey.

Charlie scoffed, but watched as Kyle patched Jason up.

It was shocking, how the man was able to remain completely still and decent while his skin was being sewn back together. Charlie knew she would be at the least cringing.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Charlie demanded. Jason let out a bark of a laugh. Her hard stare didn’t shake, however.

Jason stopped laughing when he saw that concerned glare. “Look, kid,” he said, softer. “It’s okay. This isn’t outta the ordinary for me,” he told her, as though that mattered.

“What’s your ordinary?”

Oh boy. That was a loaded question.

* * *

Their relationship grew as Jason visited the safehouse more. Charlie had subtly said she wanted him over more, out of concern. It had turned into less concern and more social visits, which Charlie at first had hated but learned to appreciate. Jason had brought Kyle over on a few occasions.

They were sweet. They had fit together so beautifully that Charlie had almost believed that love was real. That it wasn’t defined by broken plates and screaming matches.

It was two months after Jason and Charlie had first met that Jason asked the question.

“Do you want to live with me and Kyle?”

It shocked her to her core. Not only that they wanted to constantly see her but also that she was good enough for them. That she could be included in their narrative.

She had learned to trust them over the months. They were people Charlie had never met before. They gave her what she needed without question, even when she didn’t directly asked for it. They assured her that she would be okay. Things were okay and she didn’t need to sacrifice herself for money.

She felt safe.

Safe.

Something that hadn’t been in her vocabulary since...well, forever.

Before she could stop herself, she followed her instinct. To be safe. To finally put it in her vocabulary.

“Yes.”

* * *

Life went by fast, but it felt bearable for both Jason and Charlie. After enough pokes, Jason had finally told her about his night life.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?!” Charlie screamed, wondering how she ever missed her dad-no, friend being the Red Hood. The Red Hood had looked over her entire neighborhood for years. He was the only reason it hadn’t gotten even worse.

Charlie smacked Jason’s bicep. “Asshole,” she muttered. Jason felt shame surge through his body. Perhaps she was angry? Some of her trust had been broken? “Tell me important shit like that next time!”

Oh.

“You mad?” Jason asked her, his shoulders slumped over and hands fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. He was entering through the window when Charlie had caught him. Her suspicions had already been there, but the fact that in the middle of the night he had entered the apartment with a gun on his hip had brought her to her limit.

Charlie scoffed, feeling tears invade her eyes. Jason stilled, thinking he had caused her to feel worse. That attitude changed when the next few words flew out of her mouth. “You’re my hero. You’ve always been.”

Jason felt his heart seize, because he knew how to read between the lines.

Jason had once said the same thing to Bruce.

* * *

She was adopted three months later. Jason didn’t care much for the legal confirmation of their family, but also knew it was important to her future. He was surprised by how quick the process went, but also knew Bruce probably bribed the social workers. Jason couldn’t say he minded much, this time. There was always a benefit to being rich as hell.

Their lives continued to meeting Jason’s semi-family.

Charlie couldn’t help but feel safe when she met them. They were safe. Dick was kind and funny, Tim was sarcastic and smart, Bruce silent and caring, Cass observational and sweet, Damian snarky and secretly compassionate. Their family was...a family. It was never a place to fight, an excuse to drink, a reason to leave.

Charlie was safe.

* * *

“Charlie’s gonna appreciate anything, Jaybird,” Kyle told him impatiently. His boyfriend had been running wild across any store he could encounter to find her a perfect birthday gift. She was turning to the ripe age of 13, and he couldn’t disappoint her with her gift. He needed to make her happy and wanted.

Jason huffed through his nose. “I know, dummy,” he snarled, and Kyle snorted at the childish insult. Jason took a deep breath, then continued to search through the clothing racks. “I jus’ need her to feel...good,” he said softly.

Kyle blinked slowly, a love for the man in front of him spreading once again. “She’ll love anything, Jay,” he assured him. “She loves you.” Kyle had said it before, but with much less earnestness.

Jason stopped in his tracks. “You really think so, Babe?” He asked self-consciously.

Kyle nodded enthusiastically with a soft grin, his hair flopping in front of his eyes. “I know so.”Jason turned his head to look back the racks, then seemed to think for a moment. Kyle furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” He asked his boyfriend.

“I figured out what to get her,” Jason responded with a knowing grin.

* * *

Charlie thought Jay was more exited for her birthday than herself, but she didn’t mind it. It was more evidence that he truly loved her. Being exited for someone was an indication they loved you, right?

They celebrated her thirteenth birthday with too much cake and sweet mentions of affection. It was safe.

Dick, Tim, Bruce, Damian, Cass, and Babs were all over by Charlie’s request, mostly because these were pretty much the only people she knew besides Jay and Kyle. The streets didn’t give many opportunities of friends.

She had just blown out her candles, and had actually convinced Bruce to break his strict diet and eat a small piece of cake.

“Present time!” Kyle yelled out. She saw Jason roll his eyes at the corner of her eye.

They had all given her artificial things, although she did still appreciate them. They were still of great value even though they were things she could buy anytime, because they were from her new family.

It felt nice saying that.

Family.

“Open what Jay got you!” Dick interjected excitedly, his piece of cake almost flying off his plate.

Charlie giggled under his breath as Kyle handed her his gift. She felt her heart swell with something she hadn’t felt in years. It was like something had clicked into place. It was like something had shifted in her world, the puzzle piece finally clicked in to fitting with the others. Maybe it was due to her age, but Charlie thinks it’s from a love she hadn’t felt before. This was home.

She tore open the wrapping paper, excitement bubbling under her chest and love rising to her throat.

Charlie stilled when she saw the packaging. It was something she’d seen with bragging kids on the street, when they had stolen it and surprisingly gotten away with it.

“You got me a phone?” She asked tearily, holding up the packaging as a confirmation. Jason smiled and nodded.

This was more than a phone. It was symbol that he trusted her to have some sort of independence. Something that was uniquely hers, that he couldn’t take away.

Charlie got up, putting the phone on the floor, then ran up to embrace Jason. He returned the hug with a teary smile, and just before she pulled away from his embrace she whispered in his ear:

“I love you.”

Jason couldn’t express in words how much he felt the same way.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Make sure to leave in the comments below! 
> 
> Thank you all and all love <3333


End file.
